


War Games

by likeabomb



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Percy Jackson Fusion, Minor Character(s), Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-13 08:54:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29898648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/likeabomb/pseuds/likeabomb
Summary: Daishou's never really seen the point of these fake battles. People don't really do business like this anymore. Numai and Mika get just a little tired of listening to him complain.
Relationships: Daishou Suguru/Numai Kazuma/Yamaka Mika
Comments: 1
Kudos: 2





	War Games

**Author's Note:**

> PG-13 for like, making out?
> 
> Day 7 of Nohebi Week! PJO!
> 
> Some specifics to note:  
> Son of Eris Daishou  
> Son of Ares Numai  
> and Mika is a wood nymph, specifically a peach tree!
> 
> Kenma and Koganegawa are sons of Hephaestus  
> Daichi, Tanaka and Taketora are sons of Ares with Numai  
> Asahi, Tsukishima, and Kuguri are all sons of Athena

“Don’t get any ideas, you rat,” Numai hisses from off to the left, just at the edge of the clearing.

Daishou is crouched, raised up on his toes with his arms balanced on his thighs, looming over Kenma who’s staring up at him with the most unamused expression possible. If looks could kill.

“I haven’t done anything, Numai,” Daishou promises, putting one hand up, and the other over his heart, even as he watches Kenma out of the corner of his eye.

Rolling his eyes, Kenma deadpans, “All you do is bicker. Great strategy.”

Daishou shows his teeth. Kenma wonders idly if his canines are solid gold or caps. 

“Could you at least  _ try _ to act like a prisoner?”

“Bite me,” he mutters, letting his attention drift away.

Whip fast, Daishou’s hand connects with the side of Kenma’s head, knocking it to the side. Numai is halfway across the clearing, having seen Daishou raise his hand. He grabs his wrist, and is overwhelmed with the sudden sensation of bird bones and the tiny shimmers of gold in the deep mud of a creek. 

He stares down at him, expression hard. Daishou’s expression is cold, but his eyes are like a dagger slipped between the ribs.

Numai throws his hand down, looking at Kenma, but unable to voice an apology for his stand in teammate.

“You’re gonna get us disqualified. Don’t touch him again. Keep an eye out.”

There’s a deep redness around Kenma’s eye and cheek. It won’t be a black eye, but it looks like it hurt, at least. Numai shrugs his armor before going back to where he was standing watch, listening through the trees. He thunks his spear down in the dirt like punctuation.

“This really can’t be all that fun for you guys, can it?” Daishou calls out to Numai, standing up from where he’d been crouched in front of Kenma. He twirls his sword lazily, rolling his wrist with the weight of it. “Do you really think this is how battles will go? It’s 2021. Nobody’s going to jam a spear in your eye.”

“Yeah?” Numai answers, and curses himself for engaging with this shit, “And what’ll actually happen? Since you seem to be the expert.”

Daishou stops, turning to look Numai up and down. He’s quiet for a long few moments, listening to the trees around them. He doesn’t hear anything.

“A friend with a knife in your sleep.”

“You have experience with things like that, Daishou?”

Why does he keep talking to him?  _ Idiot. _

“Maybe,” Daishou hums, “Maybe not.” He shrugs his shoulders and instead walks the perimeter of the makeshift prison Kenma is being held in. It’s nothing, really, just a simple circle of rocks in the dirt in the middle of the clearing. They do this kind of thing enough that there are so many different trails through the trees and clearings where the grass just can’t grow with the hard, packed dirt.

“It’d be way more realistic if they were tied up,” Daishou calls again.

“You don’t listen very well, do you?” Numai snaps back, and again, he keeps answering. He can’t ignore him, and it’s making his blood run hot. This is meant to be his teammate! How he manages to get under Numai’s skin so easily is infuriating. 

It must be because he’s a son of Eris. Numai’s never met another, but he’s heard stories of the goddess herself, so it’s anyone’s guess really what her children must be like. Having power over others, forcing them to answer, doesn’t seem that weird. Annoying, but probably not out of the question.

“I know, I know,” Daishou purses his lips, “I’m just saying-”

Something shifts in the trees and Numai snaps his attention to the right, eyes scanning the brush.

Cut off by the sudden movement, Daishou stares off in the direction that Numai watches, and his grip on the sword in his hand is tighter. He’s not the best with it, but he’s no amateur. He’s had to get good with it to deal with people who hold petty grudges for things that happened a millennium and more ago.

Numai gestures and Daishou comes quietly. He’s not entirely invested in the outcome of this game, because frankly, he could care less about the pissing contest between the Athena and Ares cabins, but he  _ does  _ want to get a taste of what they think is war. The tremors of the fight brewing, sparking bright through the woods in patches where swords clash, just make his fingers twitch and his eyes sharp.

“I need you to go out to the stream and come back and tell me what you see and hear.”

“Why me?”

“Because you already slapped the prisoner. You’ll be lucky if I don’t tell someone about it later. You’ll be lucky if  _ he _ doesn’t tell anyone about it later.” Numai explains, voice low. He turns his head to fix eyes on Daishou, “And because I said so.”

Daishou sneers at him, and weighs the pros and cons of refusing. Ultimately, he decides it’s not worth getting into a fight he knows he won’t win- does anyone ever really win against the children of Ares?

He rolls his eyes at Numai before glancing back at Kenma sitting in the dirt. He’s holding one of his knees to his chest, chin propped up on it while he draws in the dirt. He looks about as bored as Daishou feels.

“Stay low, keep your sword ready. I think they sent a scout ahead,” Numai instructs, and as much as Daishou doesn’t like it, there’s something in his voice that makes his instructions clear. It makes Daishou want to do this. That’s annoying.

Giving Numai another scrunched up look, he ducks into the trees, staying low as he does. He stops a few times to listen, turning his head and watching the trees. He still doesn’t hear anything, but if he’s making too much noise and there  _ is _ a scout out there, there’s no way he hasn’t already been spotted. He’s not normally one for the war games, and he isn’t now either, not really, but he still moves until he can hear the whispering of the stream.

Watching across the water for a moment, Daishou grinds his teeth a little, upset he’ll be going back empty handed. At the least he should have come back with something for the trouble.

Standing up, but staying low, he turns back to head to the clearing and promptly catches his foot on an upturned root and ends up face down in the dirt.

A knee presses to the middle of his shoulders, keeping him pinned down. Eyes sharp as he struggles against it. The body above him moves and grabs his arm, wrenching it until he drops his sword. 

He should warn Numai.

With another hard lurch, he turns his shoulder enough to see who’s got him pinned.

Numai smirks down at him, letting him roll over completely.

Daishou stares, confused.

Grabbing those thin wrists in one hand, Numai leans down, holding his chin firm with the other hand, and kisses Daishou hard.

It takes a solid second for his brain to catch up before Daishou is leaning up into it, kissing him back just as hard, shifting and squirming in the underbrush. It’s something that deepens almost immediately and when they break for a breath, Daishou nips his lip. Those fangs split his lip and Numai squeezes his wrists hard enough he jolts with a gasp and Numai’s kissing him again and he can taste the copper warmth of blood.

The tree root he’d tripped over snakes it’s way over to wrap around his ankle and Daishou’s eyes snap open.

When Numai pulls his head back, Daishou calls, “Mika?”

Soft laughter filters through the leaves, shaking and shimmering with the sun glittering through them.

Melting out of one of the trees, Mika sets a hand on Numai’s shoulder and smiles for Daishou under him. Daishou stares up at the two of them, mouth open just a little. He swallows hard. A wood nymph and a son of Ares hovering over him, looking at him like that-

“Don’t look so scared, Daishou,” Mika hums, crouching down to stroke his bangs off his forehead, picking a leaf out of his hair.

“How long have you two been planning this?” He demands, and Numai settles his knees on either side of Daishou’s ribs so he doesn’t have to crouch awkwardly.

Numa looks at Mika and she returns the curious gaze before he looks back down at Daishou, tone teasing, “How long have you been at camp?”

Daishou squirms under them, but it’s futile.

“And you really jumped me in the woods in the middle of a war game?”

“You wouldn’t stop being an asshole about everything,” Numai points out.

“That’s a selling point?” Daishou quips back, showing his teeth.

“I wouldn’t say  _ selling point  _ so much as I got tired of listening to you bitch.”

Mika laughs at their bickering, leaning her arms on Numai’s shoulder, her chin on her arms.

“And you tripped me so he could catch me.”

“Mm, I wouldn’t say that either,” she smiles, “I don’t think I would have needed to trip you for Numai to catch you, Daishou. I just wanted to see you down.”

Daishou’s expression sours with irritation.

Reaching down, Mika cups one of his cheeks, thumb stroking over it before she pinches him, hard, “Stop being a brat. You didn’t need to slap Kenma.”

“Ow!” Daishou whines, tugging his face away, “Alright! I get it!”

Mika slaps his cheek lightly where she’d pinched him, satisfied with her mild punishment.

He’d pout more about it if he weren’t caught in another kiss.

The scent of peaches wraps them up as Mika supervises, smiling gently. Daishou can’t look at her for too long, eyes fluttering closed at the feeling of Numai’s mouth on his. He’s been kissed before, sure, he’s kissed Mika plenty of times, but the whole scenario mixes into a heady cocktail that makes him want to run his hands through hair and kiss back until he’s breathless. He feels like some Aphrodite poisoned, lovestruck fool.

Gross.

Mika’s slender fingers card through Daishou’s hair when Numai relinquishes his mouth enough to nip at his throat.

Daishou doesn’t even know what’s happening- he’d been a pain in the ass and is apparently being rewarded for it? He’s not really going to  _ complain _ , but if he knew being a bastard would get him kissed he might have started mouthing off earlier. Shows what he knows.

He heaves a breath before finally figuring out what to do with his hands. One reaches for Mika’s hand, and she happily laces fingers with his. He can feel the ripples of soft bark that make up her fingertips. And the other hand goes to fist in Numai’s hair. When he gives it a squeeze, Numai bites his throat, making him gasp.

“You’re so fucking  _ bitey _ , what’s your  _ problem _ ?”

“Are you sayin’ you don’t like it?” Numai rumbles against the curve of his neck.

It’s something he can feel in his chest with the way the son of Ares is leaned over him.

Mika kisses over his knuckles, watching with brilliant green eyes. Daishou wonders if she likes seeing someone take him apart. She’s deceptively good at it herself, but with their wishy washy are they aren’t they, he didn’t realize she’d be so  _ into _ this.

She turns her head as Daishou mutters a quiet, exasperated string of obscenities.

Numai catches the movement and lifts his head as well.

He grabs for his spear as she rises, and just as soon as they’d jumped him, they leave Daishou a flustered mess laying on the forest floor with leaves in his hair.

Scrambling to his feet, he grits his teeth, rummages through the underbrush til his fingers close over the hilt of his sword and takes off running behind Numai. Mika melts in and out of the trees and watches their game. She’s not involved, but Daishou can guess that she’d felt someone nearby through the trees and that had alerted Numai. Which is probably cheating. But it’s not like Daishou’s never cheated at their stupid camp games, so  _ he’s _ not going to say anything.

When they get back to the clearing, Kenma is peeling the fleshy parts of leaves away from the stems.

Nobody else is here.

“Where’s the other Ares kids? Shouldn’t they be coming back?”

“Not if they got into a fight somewhere,” Numai turns himself around, watching the trees. 

Mika didn’t follow them out into the clearing. Upon closer inspection, he can see her face in the shadow of one of the treetops, smiling warm and interested. Weird little nymph.

“What did you hear? Why did you go running?”

“I thought I saw someone.” 

He’s as sharp as ever. Daishou has blossoming hickies, and Numai is ready to defend their flag, their territory, and their hostage. It’s like nothing can stop this guy. 

Daishou clicks his tongue, annoyed that what they were doing had to be cut short for what seems like nothing. But Mika had noticed something too, and she’s probably not giving up any answers.

Before they can let themselves relax though, they hear shouts from the north, and Daishou grips his sword. He’s not ready for this. He didn’t even want to play this stupid game. The flag flutters loud in the middle of the clearing.

“Numai!” That’s Taketora, one of Numai’s brothers.

“Release the prisoners!” And that’s an order from Daichi, clear as day through the underbrush.

“We’re gettin’ fuckin’  _ swarmed _ . Where  _ is _ everyone?!” Tanaka’s wailing. He’s definitely a fighter, but overwhelming force makes him panic.

Apparently the Ares sons didn’t have as good a strategy going into this as they thought they did. Which isn’t shocking. If the Athena cabin had enough time to figure out a game plan, it makes sense they were able to win out in the end. Ares kids are good, there’s no denying that, but sometimes they get too caught up in the rush and the battlecries and the bloodlust, and it really blinds them.

Before they can do anything about Kenma, their sole prisoner in the makeshift jail, the trees explode into a cacophony of noise and swords and outcry.

“Face the fight head on, you cowards! No retreat!” Daishou’s pretty sure that’s Iwaizumi, one of the Athena kids. He’s loud.

Voices get lost in the noise after that.

Kenma leans back on his hand in the dirt, giving Daishou a smug look.

“What happened-” Numai curses, taking off towards the north where the sound of the battle is spilling over. He jumps right into the fray without a second thought.

Daishou isn’t even an afterthought. A son of Eris isn’t really much of a help either way.

Before Numai can reach the edge of the clearing, the north bursts with troops, seemingly out of nowhere.

Daichi and Taketora and Tanaka are holding their own when Numai shows up to provide back up, and hold the last line of defense before the clearing is swimming with troops.

Putting himself between the flag and the troops, as though he think he’s going to stand a chance, he hears Kenma next to him and can just  _ picture  _ the eyeroll, “Thought this whole war simulation was stupid.”

Daishou doesn’t answer, because at that point he’s parrying a sword and growling as the force of it makes him slide back a few inches in the dirt. What do they feed all these kids?

It doesn’t take long, especially in hindsight, but Daishou sees Numai freeze up as a few of the bigger Athena kids break through the ranks. Tsukishima and Asahi- but it’s Kuguri himself that plants a foot in the middle of Numai’s chest and plants him in the dirt.

When the flag is taken, Kenma is liberated with it, and despite his grumpy face, he gets scooped up by fellow Hephaestus kid and carried, because as a prisoner, he’s injured. Or something? Daishou isn’t sure. Kenma gets him to stop over Daishou who’s given in and laid down in the dirt. His sword got kicked away somewhere a while ago. 

Koganegawa and his stupid face, and Kenma and his smug face grin down at him, and Kenma flips him the bird before nodding that they can make their escape. The blossoming bruise on the side of his face taunts Daishou.

The clearing is quiet after another minute and Daishou pushes himself up onto his elbows. Everyone’s gone. It’s a mad dash to recover the Ares flag and bring it back to defend it, but now that it’s been taken, all the fight that sparked bright and fleeting is smothered out.

Thank the gods for that.

Dusting himself off, Daishou heave a sigh and just heads back through the trails to the camp.

One day these idiots are going to realize that it’s not the play fights they should be ready for. It’s the roots that wrap at the last moment, and the knee to the middle of the spine.

A slit throat could have been just as likely as those shared kisses. He’s fine with the kisses.

**Author's Note:**

> If you have any questions or comments, feel free to let me know! There might be more of this universe with other characters, but they'll be only vaguely related.
> 
> Feel free to hit me up on [my Twitter](https://twitter.com/likeabomb_)!


End file.
